


We'll Fly, We'll Fall, We'll Burn

by Mack_the_Spoon, Namarie



Series: Bloodlines [8]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Gen, Lots of Angst, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 18:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4232415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mack_the_Spoon/pseuds/Mack_the_Spoon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namarie/pseuds/Namarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night of the fire, Red must save Lizzie not only from the flames, but from her own damning memories, no matter the cost to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Fly, We'll Fall, We'll Burn

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of a departure from our usual 'Bloodlines' stories. (Since it takes place before the show, there's no Ressler - sorry!) But we wanted to explore this moment for Red and the people he cares about.
> 
> It's probably not necessary to read any of the other stories in our AU series in order to read this one, though it may help. If you're interested, [here](http://namarie24.livejournal.com/120242.html) is a list of those stories, in the correct timeline order.

~~~~~~

 

They weren't going to be safe here very long, Red knew. He needed backup, and he needed it right now. At least she was asleep, though he had no idea how long that would last. _Sam,_ he called, focusing until he found his friend's mind. _I'm out. They didn't follow me, but I don't expect to escape their notice for long._

At Sam's request, Red described where he had pulled over. Then, hesitating just a moment, he went on, _Sam, it's not just me. I've brought a – a passenger with me._ Even as he could tell Sam was getting closer, he also felt his confusion. _It's her, Sam. Katarina had her there in the house, too._ He looked beside him at the passenger seat again, and once again, his heart clenched. She was so small, so delicate – and she had already suffered more than any child should ever have to bear. _She would have died if I hadn't gotten her out,_ Red finished, aware that his mental voice was unsteady.

Now he could definitely sense Sam's mixture of emotions at this news: amazement, shock, worry, and others. But the strongest thought was whether he, Red was okay, and the girl, too.

 _She's... fine, for the moment,_ Red told him. He didn't need to share all the details yet. In person would be much better. Sam was glad to hear that, but still wanted to know about him. With a sigh, Red resisted the urge to shift positions in his seat. The adrenaline was wearing off. That meant the pain was rushing back. _I've been worse,_ he said. Which was mostly true.

By the time his lieutenant had arrived, Red was trying to keep his breaths quiet so as not to disturb the little girl – _his_ little girl – but it was difficult. Some of the skin on his back was burned so badly that there was no feeling there. However, the majority of it was agonizing.

Sam pulled over in front of Red's car and hurried over. Elizabeth still didn't move, even at the sound of Sam's approach. Nevertheless, Red warned him silently as he neared that she was asleep. Then he quietly opened his door to speak to his friend, biting his lip at the increased pain caused by standing.

“Ray, you look terrible,” was Sam's opening remark, in an undertone. Then he peered through the passenger window at Elizabeth, and his worried expression softened. “She's beautiful.”

Red swallowed. “Yes.” Then he sighed again. “I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to carry her. I don't think I can manage.”

The worry was back full force in the sharp look Sam gave him. “Why the hell not? Not that I'm refusing, but she doesn't look very heavy.”

“Carrying her out hindered my ability to avoid the flames. My back...” He paused. “Even she didn't quite get out unscathed.” He nodded at her.

Sam's eyes widened when he saw the handkerchief tied around the girl's right wrist, and he winced. “Okay, I'll carry her. I know we don't have time right now, or I'd make you tell me more.” Carefully, he opened the door. “But you'll be telling me later.” Then, very gently, he slipped his arms under the sleeping child and lifted her out of the car. She stirred, and let out a faint whimper. But then she quieted. Her uninjured hand clung tighter to the battered stuffed rabbit she had been holding when Red found her in the house.

“Good. Let's go.” Trying not to react to the pain that was just steadily getting worse, Red followed his lieutenant to the other vehicle.

~~~~~~

Red's nearest safe house was a half hour away. He had called Kate to ask her to meet them there. By the time they arrived, Red's breath was coming in sharp gasps. It was only Lizzie, still asleep in the back seat, who kept him from moaning, or swearing.

How he made it inside the house, with Sam carrying Lizzie, Red hardly knew. Kate took one look at him and ordered him to sit and take off what was left of his shirt, so she could look at his injuries. He did so, turning in his seat at the table so that his eyes were on Sam as the man laid Lizzie down on the couch and then spread a blanket over her.

Kate worked methodically and efficiently as usual, though she told him that what he really needed was to have a doctor check to take a look at some of the burns she declared could be third-degree. “I doubt you'll escape without needing skin grafts,” she informed him, “and that, my dear, I'm not equipped to handle.”

“I understand,” he said, strained, as she continued to work. A small, cowardly part of him was glad he couldn't see what she was doing. His injuries felt bad enough without having visual confirmation of how serious they were. “I will see a doctor, soon, but I have no doubt my enemies will be checking emergency rooms and clinics tonight.”

“I have trustworthy contacts,” said Kate. “Once I finish with what I can do with the resources I have, I'll make a few calls.”

Red gripped the sides of the chair. “No one else can come here. No one can know I brought the girl here.”

“Well, since I'm fairly sure this house isn't set up for skin grafting or other complicated medical procedures, that shouldn't be a problem,” Kate retorted. A few minutes later, she let out a breath. “All right. I've cleaned and bandaged you as well as I can. You can expect to be in serious pain for a good long while, I'm afraid. I recommend at least some heavy-duty Ibuprofen for now.”

“Fine,” said Red, still watching Elizabeth breathe. “Sam, do you happen to have any spare clothes? I don't want to frighten her when she wakes up.”

“I might have a sweatshirt or something,” said Sam, who had been on guard while Kate worked. “Let me go check my bag.” He stood and left the room for a moment.

Having dispensed Red some pain reliever, Kate was gathering up her things, but she paused. “Raymond, I know it's none of my business, but who is this girl? Why did you bring her here?”

“I brought her here because she would have died in a burning house tonight if I hadn't,” Red snapped. Then he rubbed his hands over his face. Lizzie might need Kate's help someday, he supposed. She should know. “She's my daughter, Kate.”

“Oh my God,” whispered the woman, glancing between the two of them. “I take it you didn't know.”

“Not until a few weeks ago,” he admitted, shaking his head and once again feeling grief, guilt, wonder, and love rise up to choke him. “Her mother didn't tell me.”

“Well. No one will hear anything from me,” she said, with a definitive nod. Then she took a few steps toward Elizabeth. “Did she get hurt tonight, too, then?”

“A relatively small burn,” Red said, standing. The motion didn't hurt as much as it had when he'd gotten out of the car, but that wasn't to say it wasn't painful. “Though I believe it might be at least second degree, based on how it looked when I bandaged it.” He remembered her tears as he'd had to put even a slight amount of pressure on it.

Sam returned with the sweatshirt just then, and Red put in on, thankful that it was not the type that would require him to put it on over his head. It still hurt enough as it was, even with Sam helping him. “Thank you,” he said. If it was this hard to put on an item of clothing now, he didn't want to imagine what else was waiting for him during this recovery period. And that was just the aspects related to his physical injuries, not the agony of having met his daughter for the first time under such awful circumstances, while already knowing with certainty that he would not be able to be a father to her.

“Raymond, would you like me to look at her burn, too?” Kate asked, her voice grave, as if she could sense some of what he was thinking.

“Yes, please, Kate.” He stepped closer, ready to comfort Elizabeth if she woke, scared, in a strange place.

Kate pulled a chair over next to the couch, then reached carefully to the girl's right hand. But as soon as the woman touched the knot of the handkerchief, the girl pulled her hand away and sat up, scooting back into the corner of the couch and looking around wildly. “No! That hurts!” She pulled her stuffed rabbit closer.

“Lizzie,” said Red quickly, coming to make sure she could see him, “Lizzie, you're all right, sweetheart. Do you remember me?”

She blinked up at him. Her eyes seemed huge in her pale, tear-stained face. “You're the man who took me out of the fire.”

“That's right. Do you remember when I put the handkerchief on where you got hurt?”

She nodded. “It hurt again. But you said it would make it better.”

“Well, this is my friend Kate. She already fixed me up where I got hurt. She's very good at helping people. Would you let her help you?”

Lizzie shook her head. “I want you to do it.” There were tears in her eyes, although she wasn't crying. He wondered if he was imagining the faintly unusual quality to her speech, like the barest hint of an accent. He supposed that would make sense.

“I can tell you what to do,” said Kate quietly.

“Okay, Lizzie,” said Red, taking the chair as Kate vacated it. “First I need to take off the handkerchief so we can see if it's better yet.”

Silently, her lip quivering, Lizzie held out her right hand. Red leaned over and gently took it in one of his. Then he untied the knot. “That's good, sweetheart. You're doing a good job.” When he pulled the cloth off, she flinched, but she didn't move her hand away.

“Definitely a second-degree burn. Not superficial, either,” said Kate, frowning. “I'll get you a clean bandage. I don't have any children's pain reliever, but I can cut a pill in half for her.”

Red had some first aid experience, so applying the bandage was far from beyond him. All he had to do was not let his hands shake as he attended his daughter. His beautiful, brave daughter, who trusted him, somehow, and let him finish the process without complaining. He tried not to think about how this would probably be the last time he cared for her, in person, for too many years.

“Does it hurt, sweetheart?” he asked, when he was done.

She nodded, sniffing.

“I'm sorry.” He took a deep breath. Then he turned to Kate. “She's too young to swallow a pill. Can we put it in some food, and have her eat it that way?”

“Pain medicine is bitter. We can give it a try, though,” said Kate.

“There might be hot chocolate in the cupboard. I'll go check,” said Sam, turning to go to the kitchen.

“Who's that man?” Lizzie asked, apparently having noticed Sam for the first time as he left.

“He's my friend, too,” said Red. She seemed to accept this.

The hot chocolate, complete with one half Ibuprofen crushed and stirred into it, seemed to go over well. She drank almost the whole cup, then started to look tired again. She fell asleep on the couch with the spoon still in her hand, and the rabbit pinned under her arm.

An hour later, Kate having left after reminding him that she'd be looking for a doctor to see his burns, Red was still in the living room of the safe house, watching the little girl sleep. Sam joined him shortly, after checking in with a few others of Red's people.

“No movement tonight, apparently.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in. “Hmm? Oh, yes. Thank you.”

Sam sat down next to him. “Ray. Do you have a plan, here? I get that you couldn't leave her there. I mean, hell, even if she was just some random little girl, you couldn't have done that. But you're still a fugitive from the government, with other players looking for you, some of which we don't even know about yet.”

Red looked at him. “I know, Sam. Believe me, I haven't stopped thinking about those very details this entire time. Those, and a few others.” Namely, just what sight had greeted him when he'd burst into the room after the gunshot.

“So? What's the plan?”

“I have to protect her,” he said. “From my enemies, which means I also have to protect her from being connected to me. And I have to make her safe from her own memories.”

“What do you mean?” Sam stared at him.

“This was a terrible night even before the fire started, Sam,” Red said, his throat threatening to close. He cleared it. “If I'm going to ask you to be involved, I guess you should know the whole story.” As succinctly and unemotionally as he could, he explained what he had heard, and what Katarina had said about how her husband had died.

“Good God, Ray!” Sam looked at the girl. “Why the hell were they fighting and carrying loaded guns right in front of her, anyway?”

“I suspect they had too many other things on their minds,” Red said tightly. This didn't excuse their carelessness, of course. “But in any case, we agree that it wasn't Elizabeth's fault. This is far too heavy of a burden for any child.”

“Of course it is.” Sam sighed heavily. Then his jaw dropped, and turned to pin him with his gaze. “No. You're not saying –”

Red couldn't speak – not out loud – but he nodded. _I have to. I – I can't let her go through her whole life with these memories weighing her down, crushing her spirit. Her childhood would already be over. She's only four._ Her life, he was sure, would be hard enough when she grew up.

Sam clenched his jaw. “Fine. She's your daughter. I guess you'll do what you feel is necessary.” He stood. “I need a cigarette.” Standing abruptly, he left the house, and though he shut the door quietly, Red still felt like he had slammed it. And it was no wonder. What he was about to do... Even other dragons would find it abhorrent.

Red had resisted the temptation to even check until now, but even with the weight of his best friend's disapproval, he had to. Bending a little closer to Elizabeth, he tried to touch her mind. But her natural mental shield stopped him before he could do more than see that she was dreaming. Of course. Both he and Katarina had dragon blood, so their daughter would have been born with the mental protections that her heritage provided, as well. In fact, considering her parentage... Red reached out his mental awareness to her again, not trying to read her mind this time. It was hard to sense in someone who hadn't transformed yet, but – yes, there it was. Almost like a visual cue, though as ever, it was nothing he could have described in words. But the upshot was that Lizzie was a dragon, as well.

He retreated and sat back. This wasn't a surprise. It was both good news, in the long term – in not that many years, she would be formidable enough in herself not to need as much protection – and not as good news, in the short run: it made it much harder, if not almost impossible, for him to be able to manipulate her mind in any way.

As if she had an inkling of what he was thinking about, Lizzie took that moment to sigh and frown in her sleep. She opened her mouth and said something indistinct. Then her breathing sped up, and she whimpered. “Daddy, no,” she mumbled.

Red wondered if his heart could actually break. He knew she wasn't talking to or about him – but that was perhaps even worse. If she was dreaming about the shooting... _Shhh, sweetheart,_ he whispered to her. _It's all right. It's just a dream._

The front door opened, and Sam came back, with the smell of cigarettes on him. “So,” he said quietly. “I spent the whole time I was out there thinking about what else you could do. I thought about hypnosis – like the kind non-dragons do – but I know you'd say it's less effective than what you can do. And if it doesn't work, there's no point. I don't have any other good options.”

Red nodded. “There's a new wrinkle I had forgotten to think of, though it should have occurred to me. She's a dragon, too.”

Sam's eyebrows rose. “Wow. So she'll have the kind of mental shield you have?”

“She does already,” he said. “Or almost.”

“That means you can't even do it, doesn't it?” Sam sat down again, heavily. “Poor kid. I guess we--”

“No, that's not what it means,” Red interrupted, swallowing. “It means it will require a great deal of effort on my part, and then I'll have to erase the memory of the process in her mind as well as the trauma I originally planned to deal with.”

Sam swore softly. He made as if to speak again, and then just shook his head.

“Sam. There's something else, before I do this. Something I need to ask you. You're only too correct that my life is in danger from multiple directions, and though you also know I have plans on how to survive, I can't bring a little girl into this. Nor can I allow anyone to know she has any connection to me or to Katarina. This brings me to my request, and it's the biggest thing I've ever asked of you.” He paused, and looked his lieutenant in the eye. “There's no one I trust in this world more than you. And your connection to me is already fairly well hidden.”

“Ray...” Sam's mouth dropped open, and he looked from Red to the sleeping child. His thoughts were in turmoil. “Ray, I don't – I don't know anything about children. You don't want me to be in charge of any kid, and especially not your kid!”

“What I want is to take Lizzie and disappear to some hidden location where she can grow up in peace, and where I can remember what it's like to have a family,” Red choked out, then took a deep breath and tried to get a hold of himself. Thoughts like these had rushed to mind the minute he had found out about Lizzie's existence. But they were just dreams, even further out of reach now. Several seconds later, he was able to go on. “Since I can't do that, however, I want to be absolutely sure that she'll have that peace, and that she'll be loved.”

Sam was tearing up now. “Well, she's yours. So I guess I am already kind of fond of her.”

Red managed to smile at that. “I appreciate that, Sam.” Then his expression grew serious. “I know this is an enormous favor. I'm asking you to change your whole life. If you don't feel you can accept, I will understand. I'll do my best to make other arrangements.”

“You'll, what, find some wholesome suburban couple who've always wanted a kid, and just happen to be willing to accept a little girl with a mysterious past, no questions asked?” Sam scoffed and shook his head again, this time more firmly. He blinked, and wiped a tear from his cheek. “There's no way they wouldn't try to find out where she came from. I couldn't handle worrying about her, much less asking you to do that.” Now it was his turn to take a deep breath and meet his friend's eyes squarely. “No. I'll do it. I can't promise you I know how to be a father. But I'll do it.”

Red couldn't speak for several minutes. He couldn't really cry, either, since that would wake Elizabeth. But when he finally had his breathing and voice under control, he gripped Sam's arm and said, “Thank you, Sam. There aren't enough words to thank you appropriately. As for being a father, all I can tell you is that if you aim to keep her safe and make sure she knows she's loved, that's most of the job description right there.”

Sam, who was also struggling to keep his emotions in check, nodded. “I'll do my best.”

“I know you will,” said Red. Then he turned back to Lizzie, his heart pounding. “Now. You can stay or leave the room, as you choose. I don't expect you'll be able to see much. But please keep in mind that I will be using a great deal of concentration.”

“I'll stay. And I'll be quiet.”

Red nodded. Then he scooted his chair closer to his sleeping daughter and leaned forward again.

~~~~~~

He discovered quickly that the blood bond they shared actually lessened the effort it took to push past Lizzie's shield. Of course, it also made it feel even worse, if that was possible, as if it made the breach of her trust and privacy doubly grievous. Nevertheless, he was still convinced this was what had to be done. So, once her still-developing shield was no longer keeping him out, he wasted no time. He had to keep going, even though he was very aware of the pain he had caused and was causing her.

First, Red repeated the instruction he'd been giving almost constantly, for her to stay asleep. At least that seemed to be working. Then he found her memories of the tonight's events. This was already painful enough for both of them that he didn't want to take too long or do too much. So he focused on the argument a terrified Lizzie had witnessed, that she had ended with a gunshot. He told her to forget that, and, to be safe, added that she shouldn't remember any details about anyone who was there in the house with her. He wanted to remove her terror about the fire, too, but he had already been in her head, behind her shield, too long. Her discomfort was building. Any longer, and she would wake.

So he carefully began to disengage. He stopped to do his best to smooth over the break in her mental wall before leaving, and then his awareness of his physical surroundings came back over him as if he had been underwater and suddenly resurfaced. Of course, the pounding, horrendous headache he now had made it difficult to truly focus on anything. That, and the guilt. It was suffocating. No matter his intentions, and no matter how gentle he'd tried to be, the fact remained that it had been a monstrous, brutal act. A violation. And he had done it to his own child.

Suddenly, he flung himself to his feet, ignoring Sam's stifled exclamation, and went as quickly as he could without running to the bathroom. There, he fell to his knees and vomited into the toilet. Even after the nausea had mostly passed, he didn't get up. The fact that he was in a position of supplication didn't escape him. But there was no one to offer him absolution. His back felt like it was on fire again. Perhaps that was a just punishment.

“Ray?”

“It's done,” he said, not turning around. “I couldn't remove everything without risking serious harm to her, but she won't remember the argument, the gun, or any of the faces of the people who were there.”

“Any of them?”

“Not a one,” said Red, finally getting to his feet. He flushed the toilet, and washed his hands and splashed water onto his face. “It's better that way.”

“You're not leaving now, are you? Ray, you look like you could fall over any second!”

He felt nearly that bad. “I'll be fine. But Lizzie... she can't remember me. I mean, she must not.”

“At least sit for a few minutes!” Sam put a hand on his arm. “I need to ask you a few things. About-- about what you want me to do for Lizzie.”

Red had to agree that was reasonable, even necessary. He allowed Sam to lead him back to the main room, where he sat again, though he turned his chair so that it was no longer facing Lizzie. “What do you need to know?”

“Hold on a second.” Sam stood again. “I'm going to get you something to drink. I don't know what we have in this house, but you need it.”

Normally, Red supposed he might have criticized the quality of the beer his friend brought him. But tonight, he had nothing to say on the matter. He simply drank, though it probably wasn't smart to do so when he had so recently been nauseated. If it numbed any of his feelings, then he wouldn't complain.

“Anyway.” Sam sighed and took a pull of his own bottle. “I've got some ideas about who to go for, for a birth certificate and adoption paperwork. And obviously, we'll need to go somewhere – get out of anywhere anyone would be looking for you or her.”

“Yes,” said Red. His head was still throbbing, as were the burns on his back. “The Midwest would be a good place to start.”

"I have family in Nebraska. That could work." Sam paused. “Ray, she may not be able to know about you, but I'll make sure you know about her. I'll – I'll take lots of pictures to send to you, and tell you stories.”

Red closed his eyes. Here he was, at the precipice of the moment he had dreaded ever since he saw Lizzie. He was about to leave her. And yes, it was good, so much better than it could be, that someone he loved and trusted like a brother would be the one to raise her. But as much as his head knew that, all his heart knew was that he was preparing to tear it out and leave it behind. “I'd like that.” His voice was barely audible.

“Okay. And I guess you'll need to teach me about what happens when a dragon first transforms,” Sam said.

“That's a number of years away,” Red said. “But yes, I wouldn't want either of you to be caught off guard. I'll make sure you aren't.” He had already finished his beer. The anesthetizing effects of the alcohol weren't enough, but they were something.

“Good,” said Sam. “Anything else we should talk about?”

Red rubbed a hand over his face. “Well. I expect both of us will think of many things later, if we don't cover everything now.” He stood. “She'll be confused when she wakes up, so be gentle. Tell her whatever you think seems best. I should leave.”

Suddenly, it occurred to him that in preparing to make this transition, he was also about to bid farewell to Sam – not as irrevocably, but certainly for quite some time. “I don't know when it will be safe for us to meet in person again,” he said, and shut his eyes. To be forced to say goodbye to both his daughter and his dear friend in one night seemed intolerable. But he had to. There was no other way to keep them all safe. He took a breath and succeeded, sort of, at smiling. “I guess this new position of yours means you've effectively graduated to lieutenant emeritus status now.”

Sam didn't try to hide his dismay. “Ray... Shit. I didn't want to make you lose any support. Especially not now.”

“This is far more important, Sam. I'll survive all the better knowing you're in charge of this most vital task,” Red told him. And that was true, he thought. “Goodbye, my friend. I'll make sure you have several ways to reach me.”

“You'd better,” said Sam, his voice rough.

Red turned then to look at his daughter. He spent a long moment doing his best to memorize every detail of her features. Then he bent down and kissed her forehead. “Goodbye, Lizzie. Be brave.” And before he could lose his resolve, he turned away and went out into the dark.

 

~~~~~~


End file.
